I am not normal. Let’s be clear about this. I have never been normal. And frankly my dear I don’t give a damn. Time was I did, that is when I was young and wanted to belong, and resented being bullied for being different. But now I see my lack of normality as a badge of honour. To quote Popeye the Sailor Man “I yam what I yam and that’s all what I yam.†And those who don’t like it, tough!
But the definition of what is “normal†for a human being is becoming narrower by the day. Every day new “conditions†are being identified, with new treatments from the mainstream medical with fancy new drugs, to the weird and wacky quackery of the latest new age proponents.
Those of us who do not conform to the ideal anorexic model body shape for women and the sort of inverted pyramid favoured by the macho model male are consigned to the outer darkness where there is wailing and gnashing of teeth.
The latest freak show is the public humiliation of overweight people by the food Nazis, reality TV at its worst. Society has almost got over the public exhibition of various types of disabled people as freaks in favour of obesity and, for light relief, rare disease of the month, especially in children who probably have no say in their public exploitation.
We should recognise, celebrate and actively value the rich and wonderful diversity of humankind, remembering that it is those on the margins who are often the agents of important change, development and creativity. If we keep narrowing the definition of who is OK we might find ourselves disappearing up our own fundamental genetic orifice.
Come to think of it – if all the “abnormals†united we might just be a majority. Scary eh!
